Any Worst Requests
by ASifFiction
Summary: Yuuko wished for him to keep on living. But no one can prevent the inevitable. Spirits start sliding through the cracks in the seals...Doumeki tries to keep the demons at bay, and Watanuki in the dark. Rou DouWata, DoumekixWatanuki. Yaoi, Weekly updates.
1. Chapter 1

Any Worst Requests

Yuuko wished for him to keep on living. But no one can prevent the inevitable.

→O

Scream. The buildings screeched as metal scraped downwards, buckling against the earth.

Scream. Gormless faces in the street turned white before they turned to run.

Scream. The beast yelled in frustration, swiping invisible claws at the earth. The only one who could see it was locked away.

The only one who did not scream was Doumeki.

Instead he dived aside, behind a tall red fence, as the creature tore another innocent building from the ground. His lungs threw out breaths and he struggled, with limbs made of rubber, to fit the arrow - another stumble of the fingers and it tumbled to the shaking earth.  
The archer cursed his grazed hands and the rough wood and risked another glimpse at the thing, taking aim with his heart and not his eyes, exactly the way Watanuki had told him he -

Watanuki.

Suddenly Doumeki could not see; eyes or heart. He snapped his back against the fence. That was why the buildings had looked so familiar - it wasn't the pang of watching demons slice walls and workers, this time. The city was far enough away, but a wrong turning for something this big...

It was a footstep away from the shop.

Doumeki cursed more loudly. He jerked his bow into the air, and fired with a yell.

The tiny arrow seemed to move slowly, tentatively, towards the beast. It shuddered against air - against flesh?  
There it was - that stillness against the sky. The clouds still raced around the silhouette, but in that patch they had been petrified. Then wind spiralled across the body as it turned.

It roared. It charged.

"No, no, no," Doumeki muttered. He darted along the fence, flipping his body over it at the end. He ran away; away from the shop but towards the monster. Could he distract it? Could he outrun it? He didn't know - all he did know was that he couldn't risk Watanuki.  
It was close. He could feel its breath. It was achingly hot, and too _heavy_, like acrid tears against his neck.

There was no chance to run now. He flung his bow against his shoulder backwards, firing in desperation. A howl came from behind and he angled himself the way of home, racing so fast he couldn't feel his feet; only the current ripping in and out of his lungs.  
The shop was in sight. He flung his last arrows and tore at the entrance. The handle almost didn't seem real, too smooth against his hot skin; but the thing behind him was real and rough and just as heated and so nearly against him-  
Doumeki slammed shut the door and pressed his back against it as he had done to the fence. He made no sound, but his chest moved violently.

Watanuki was stirring something delicious that smelled of chicken and warm spices. He stepped from side to side, leaning up to shelves and tilting shakers into the pot. His working hum was jovially oblivious. It stopped when he heard the door.  
"Doumeki? Is everything okay?"

He breathed. "'Ss fine," he lied, sweat sliding down his face.

He could almost hear the boy's frown. "Whatever. Here, try this."

Doumeki slid away from the door, giving it a cautious glance as he stepped into the kitchen. Nothing burst through.  
"Doumeki-" Watanuki burst at him. He brandished a spoon. The archer swallowed quickly, scalding his mouth, leaving a faint pepper taste and nothing more.

"It's good. I like the pepper."

Watanuki scrutinised his face. Then he met Doumeki's eyes, and ducked his head away. "I heard noises," he said.  
"Nothing to worry about."  
Again, that silent frown. Was it really there, or was it just a manifestation of the guilt Doumeki felt when he lied about this?  
Watanuki turned back round. Oh boy, the frown was real.  
"You can't keep doing this," he snapped. "Coming in late and shaken, and looking so...so...well-" he flushed. "I can't help but. Um."  
"Worry?"  
"That-no! It's just-no!"  
Despite himself, the man smiled. "You don't have to worry about me. I have your ring, remember?"  
"I do not...that is to say, I shouldn-I-oh, shut up," he grumbled, failing again to scare away the man's smirk with a stutter.

Unfortunately for Doumeki, that smirk came at a price. Every time Watanuki acted so adorably agitated, it signified a long period of silence. Sighing over his sacrifice, he made his way back into the hall, where he collided with the twins.

"Master is angry," Maru commented.  
"Angry, angry!" Moro agreed.  
Their wide, clear eyes looked all the way up at him. He ruffled their soft hair slightly. There was something concrete about the small girls, to him, in the way they were linked so intrinsically to the shop. It was reassuring - they grounded it here. It was safe as long as they were, and they'd never had a moment of danger. "I'll make it up to him. There's extra sake I bought yesterday that he doesn't know about."  
"Sake, sake!" The young children danced and clapped and sang songs of alcohol.

A thud sounded at the door. It was echoed by Doumeki's heart. He nudged Moro ("Sake! Sake! Drunken drinky!") aside and moved closer to trace its wood with the side of a finger. Nothing could get in - he knew that. All the same, his pulse remained vigilant. He wouldn't dare to go outside again tonight.

That meant another torturous night of staring at that silky face and tangled black hair.

Even now that burn of guilt and pleasure flared when Watanuki tugged back tangles of that black hair and framed that silky face with knotted cloths to made Doumeki's favourite foods...or when he ate it all, maybe even complimented the meal, and the pink came in his cheeks. And if Watanuki dared to whisper "thank you" in reply, if affected Doumeki in ways that normal shivers didn't. It was so awkwardly incredible, and it made him want to...to...

Scream. With frustration; frantic-eyed, punching-the-wall frustration that he could feel this way about a friend, someone he was supposed to protect.

Scream. With lust. Roving eyes and watering mouth and confusion - or was it disgust?

Scream. With terror. The boy they sought was weakening. The monsters outside were strengthening. Little stood between.

The only one who did not scream was Watanuki.

Yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Any Worst Requests**

Yuuko wished for him to keep on living. But no one can prevent the inevitable.

→O

The sky outside was impregnated with silent violence. It scanned the ground for a rift...for the shop?  
Inside the shop sat a man equally as quiet. Doumeki scanned the clouds for a rift - for the silence that gave birth to attack.

Opposite him, sitting and reading in near silence, was Watanuki. This was the wall he built up whenever irritated with the archer; he would curl up onto the chair and pull a heavy book in front of his face. Then he'd open it to the centre, and memorise facts about spirits. Occasionally he would gasp or tut - but the effect was ruined by his perpetually peeping over the spine straight after, to see if he had piqued Doumeki's intrigue.

Doumeki looked at him with eyes completely flat.

Watanuki scowled and hitched the book up again.

After a while of this game, his legs straightened and his feet came to rest on the floor. "Oh, no. Oh, this one's just _horrible," _he said softly. Doumeki looked up despite the obvious ploy.  
But Watanuki's gaze was on the page. He traced his finger across the text and said, even more gently, "As if it isn't bad enough for them..."  
"What?"  
Watanuki looked back up. "It's awful," he told him. "This creature does things that..." he shuddered. "It doesn't just hurt people. It destroys buildings, even whole cities, to get what it wants." He watched the page as though scared the demon would jump at him. "It's enormous..."  
Needlessly destroying buildings. Unfortunately for Doumeki, that seemed familiar. "May I see the picture?"  
Watanuki tilted the book around. The beast's silhouette was exactly the one which had marred the city skyline.  
Doumeki's face tensed. "Yeah. That's the one I saw yest-" he bit his tongue, then his lips, to prevent the word tumbling out further.

Watanuki let the book thud to his lap. "The Kiyokorosu?" He cried out. "You _saw _this thing?"

"Just in passing," Doumeki said evasively.

Watanuki glared. He turned frenetically back to the book, reading further and further until his eyes stopped.  
He frowned at the page. As his forehead relaxed, blood filled his cheeks.  
"What...what happened yesterday, exactly?" He asked in a voice almost casual, but altogether too high-pitched.  
Doumeki shrugged and tried to be vague. "It was smashing stuff, so I shot at it and it chased after me."  
Watanuki stared. "It...followed you?"  
He nodded. "Yeah. Why?" Before his curiosity grew enough to snatch the book from Watanuki's hands, he'd snapped it shut and the page was gone.

His eyes raced over Doumeki's frame, studying him for several seconds. Then he said:  
"You never tell me about your friends."

Doumeki looked at him sideways for a long moment. He turned his concentration to picking at his thumbnail."Right."  
"I'm serious!"  
"So am I."  
"What...you don't have any?"  
Doumeki shrugged again, then wondered if he caught the boy watching his broad shoulders move against his shirt, muscles gently shirking the material. The possibility delayed his response. "This is sort of a full-time job."

Watanuki launched the book at those shoulders. "You make it sound like you're my carer," he snapped.  
Doumeki thought about the creature outside. "Yeah," he joked, distracting himself more than anything, "I protect you from your own rage."

For once, there was no irritated response. Watanuki stared dreamily into space; half-happy, half-anxious.  
"But you can't have killed it," he reasoned. "It's much too strong."  
Doumeki grunted his agreement.  
"Then..." The worry claimed his expression. "What..."  
"It's okay," Doumeki assured him. "It won't get to us. And if it does - I'll fight back. It shouldn't be too hard. It's bigger than the others that come here nowadays, but-"  
"There are _more_?" Watanuki gaped, wounded. He swiped back his fringe and glared."Were you ever planning to tell me this?"  
It was Doumeki's turn again to look away.  
He pushed himself up from the chair, regaining his full stature. "I have business to attend to."  
Watanuki scrambled up, blocking the path of the taller man. "Business?" He said scornfully. "Oh, right. Deceit's just another day's work for you, is it?"  
"I'm not lying. I do have to go."  
"For what? Tell me what you've seen out there!"  
Doumeki shook his head and tried to move past, but Watanuki raised his hands and held him back by the chest. Doumeki's cheek twitched.  
Watanuki realised the contact with a blink and lowered his hands. "I'm going, too."  
"No."  
"Not past the boundary. Just...outside."  
"No. Oi! No."  
"Just-let me-go!" He yanked his wrist against the vice of Doumeki's hand.

_Ping._ It was the softest sound. It seemed to come from above.  
Doumeki tried not to betray his caution. "It's not safe for you out there."

_Ping._Watanuki shivered. His mouth built up words. "Did you...?"

_Ping._

Doumeki swung out of the room and paced at the door.  
"Doumeki!"  
_Ping. Ping, ping, ping._  
His eyes shocked wide open as he saw.

All around the shop, arrows pierced and bent the ground. Some were further out, sprayed like blood from a frothing wound. Those which were closer were concentrated, rows and rows of splintered daggers. And he recognised them - some older than others, weather-beaten. One had an unmistakable stain of freshly dried blood.

It was the arrow he had fired yesterday.

The creature had been waiting, pruning itself of arrows and nursing its dignity. But it could not find the shop - why could it not see it, if it wished to? Did the shop protect itself against these demons? - so it had resorted to firing where it had seen Doumeki disappear, hoping to snag the rooftop and smash its way in.

"Doumeki..."  
He swerved back violently. Watanuki's mouth was open, and his finger-combed hair grimaced back down, slick against his face. A slight movement of his pointing finger gave away his trembling. "What..."  
Then he dove forwards with a yell and shoved against Doumeki's stomach. The pair staggered backwards; Doumeki's eyes crossed at the slicing presence of an arrow, and he tumbled, tugging Watanuki onto him - it whistled past the latter's hair and thundered down at his right foot. Doumeki screened the air, clutching the shaking boy to him in protection. A point of darkness focused above his head. He rolled with a shout and threw Watanuki up onto his feet. "Get inside!" He yelled. The second arrow twanged into the floor in the space he had just leapt out of.  
Watanuki hovered in horror, staring at Doumeki's face. Then he tried to set his mouth, pleading only to "use the ring" before he disappeared.  
Doumeki slipped the thimble onto his left index finger, and the bow sprang hissing out.

→O

Watanuki sprang at the pile, kicking jewellery and books and bottles down to their tinkling, thudding, crunching ends. The odour of alcohol leaked upwards as he scrabbled his hands against shelves, stroking and grabbing, searching for that shape. "Come on. Come on..." There! He flung his fisted hand into the dim light. It was long, with a smooth shaft and a head of black enamel. He fell downwards and outwards and staggered to the doorway, pausing only to glimpse Doumeki and drop the arrow on the gable before he turned to run back.

→O

Doumeki swore at the sky as the demon swooped again and freed its splinter, tossing it back at the archer's feet. He checked the door in time to notice Watanuki's fourth appearance - and a small but growing pile of the finest arrows. For every shot he fired, Watanuki returned with two more; Doumeki reached across for the gilded ammunition and armed himself.

They soared across space, heads of amber and cobalt and emerald green, some patterned with garnet, one a hollow cross-hatching of steel. The living cyclone seemed to shudder backwards with each impact. Each time Watanuki visited, his face was visibly more contorted from the stench of its furious agony. This last visit, Doumeki's eyes gripped him with such concern that he did not notice the arrow he set carefully down - a cloth was pressed against his mouth and nose, and when he turned he took the weight of the door with him.  
Doumeki stared at the beast, and then at the final arrow.

He nearly choked.

Of course he recognised it - it was in all of his grandfather's books. From _Curses of Legend_ to _Wielded by Emperors_; from _Great Weapons of War_ to _Dangerous Beauty_*; It was the Angel's Sword, The Hope-Wrencher, the Cullen of the East. It was an arrow carved of diamond, and it shone like a falling tear.

Doumeki fingered it gently, wrenched. One shot with this might kill the creature, but the arrow was infinitely precious.

Yet as he glanced around the rows of balanced arrows, he reasoned that it would only be shot back to him.

He aimed.

→O→O→O→O→O→

AN: For now and for the purpose of this fic, we'll assume that Doumeki's thimble-bow doesn't require physical arrows, but they're stronger so he prefers to use them in bigger attacks.

*This example shows how prolific the arrow was. Doumeki remembered the book to be comprised otherwise entirely of violent porn stars and murderous wives. He presumed this had been a prank gift to Haruka; he seldom found porn among the bookshelves, and it seldomer contained women.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: "Baka" is Japanese for idiot. Smart people will already know it, and stupid people will already know it as they'll have been called it. But I'll remind you regardless, just in case.

**Any Worst Requests**

Yuuko wished for him to keep on living. But no one can prevent the inevitable.

→O

The air raced around the demon plunging into a dive.

Doumeki released the arrow as though it was his own heart. He couldn't feel the beating as it soared from his body across the sky.  
The monster surged towards him with a violent lust. The arrow unnoticed, it aimed for Doumeki with jaws snapping out howls.

His hands curled against the bow and gripped it until the wood strained. If that delicate arrow smashed, it wouldn't just be the legacy of Japanese lords that was ruined, or a thousand years of history – it would be Watanuki, and he wouldn't even be there to hold him close or to tell him everything was going to be alright, because Doumeki would have failed him and would already be gone.  
His senses melted with a burst of white heat and he cried out across the air. The creaking string snapped and curled against his face, like it was trying to comfort him and absorb the tears.

The arrow struck into the spirit. For the first time, Doumeki could see it. It was a deep, sorrowful purple - and however it saw him it did not use its eyes, which were scarred and whitened.

It staggered and slumped, but breathed freely.

"Please," Doumeki whispered, string clinging to his face but no longer blotting his tears. He swayed forwards. "You don't even have to die. I promise, I promise – I won't shoot at you again, if you'll just go. You can take my arrows, take anything, but don't-"

And suddenly he realised that the creature wasn't breathing at all, let alone freely. He could tell the sounds emanating from its body were growing louder, but they weren't breaths. They were _sighs_. And more than sighs, they were _moans_. He felt his heart thud again, returned to his chest – and then he knew that the moans and sighs he was hearing were of people's _names_.

"John...Kader...Atiya...Nick...Darina...Masami...Daniel..."

Doumeki fell onto his knees with a feeling of weak perversion. He didn't know what he was hearing – it couldn't be the spirit's victims saying their own names. It was more than that...a word that was more powerful and private and provocative than even their own.  
Each word was filled with the kind of sorrow he had just escaped. They gurgled passionately against the air, beating a current into it. But at last they gushed into silence.

Still trembling, he took several tries to push himself up. The bow was no longer in use, but it remained a while before becoming the ring again – Doumeki silently thanked it, as it was the only thing that got his weight across the graveyard to pluck the choicest arrows and return to the shop.  
He dried his face fiercely.

Inside, the movements of Watanuki's body echoed his own. He stepped queasily, and his face was palely shaking. "It's gone now? It's..."

_Alright,_ Doumeki answered in his mind. He said nothing aloud, but nodded. Then the ghosts of the tears tried to form in his dry eyes, causing a painful heat.

It was the same every time.  
Every single night he would dream of how wonderful they could be – he'd convince himself over and over that he would tell him tomorrow; that he would hold him close and tell him everything would be alright. He'd knock at the door, face a-flutter, with the words already almost burbling out, "I love you, I love you, I love you..."

But when he'd see Watanuki's face, his expression and mind would be wiped clean. Because the archer would see that Watanuki couldn't be more perfect - so he should not do anything, ever, that might change him.

Watanuki led them across the shop.  
Doumeki assumed (or at least pretended) he was being led, anyway – it gave him an excuse to follow behind Watanuki wherever he went.

He stopped and Doumeki bumped into him. Watanuki turned round. "Watch where you're going."  
"You stopped."  
"I didn't stop, I turned."  
"Then shouldn't it be you who watches where he's going?"  
"Doumeki-" he said. But he shook his head. "Why did that thing ever want me...?"

Doumeki felt his pulse quicken at the mention of the danger.

"It can't have wanted me."

Doumeki just cleared his throat. It gave a dry shout of protest.

"It can't have been after me." He said again. He was watching Doumeki so closely, the archer could almost feel the pattern Watanuki's gaze traced on his skin.

"It must have wanted you."

A stare.

Watanuki blushed ceremoniously. "I mean, what do they see in me?"

"A baka."

"Well, I'll fight next time," he decided, ignoring Doumeki's statement with determination and marching to the storeroom. Doumeki did not follow him – he simply was Doumeki for the time it took for Watanuki to cross the shop. Which, of course, meant that he ended up right beside the boy as always.

Watanuki was still muttering. "And I'm going to keep those arrows safe, since they're so powerful. See? We have strength_ and _logic. Really, what do they take me for?"

"A baka."

"Well, you need them filed away so we can use them again", he insisted. He turned to the corner. He paused. "Would they go under A for arrows, or I for important?"

"A, baka."

Watanuki pointed. "I's the first folder."

Doumeki stared. "Why?"

He waved his hand and said "Yuuko" by explanation.  
They passed and collected the arrows.

The phone rang. Without this distraction, the two would not have noticed that their gazes were on each other; as it was, they could not simply allow their curiosity to fade naturally, but had to break away and cough and mumble excuses.

Watanuki dashed to interrupt the sound. He curled his fingers around the handset of the thing. It was gloriously outlandish; a crimson Dreyfuss far too glamorous for Doumeki's liking. It didn't look right in the boy's slender, pale hand. It seemed cheapened even by his presence.

Of course, Yuuko's hand had fitted it like a glove.

"Hello?"

Everything in the shop was still saturated in Yuuko. For all Watanuki said about not wanting to forget the woman, he had a real need to keep her defences here. Admitting this would damage his pride; but if the spirit attacks were increasing for any reason besides Watanuki's decreasing strength, Doumeki did not know what that motive was.

He looked down at the arrows. Everything, even this corner-tucked filing cabinet, screamed of her power.

_"My only wish..."_

Doumeki's eyelids jumped upwards, as did the arrow in his hand.  
That wasn't the gratingly physical sound of the phone.

He plucked the arrow from the floor, shaking his head to clear the memory away. Now of all times, he did not want to remember Yuuko. Her presence in his thoughts filled him with dread...even in his head she looked at him knowingly from under a cocked eyebrow.

He dropped the arrow into the folder in the cabinet. It disappeared into its black depths, invisible until he would need it most.

_"And you shouldn't move my things – they'll do better for you in the shop."  
_The Yuuko in his head turned to face him. _"But you wouldn't let him do that, ne, Doumeki-kun? You'll let him be. For everything he says, you know the truth behind it." _She smiled, her teeth cutting through his mind. _"Except for that one situation."_

He tried to walk away, but his anxious motion only jogged the memory of a more panicked Yuuko, with a time-limit in her voice: _"They'll do what they can, my belongings. If he can't keep it up until the end, he'll be protected. Except for the last one. But that's the least I can do." _She lowered her head.

_"Because the last one will be the kindest."_

With a sigh of pure relief, Doumeki reached the room where Watanuki stood. The boy putting down the phone was his living antidote to these strange visions.

"That was Gokui-san."

Doumeki watched him, not showing how much he relished just waiting.

"The spirits have been terrorising his shop. He said they swarm it like moths to a light every night-time. He asked if I knew what it was, and if there was anything I could do about it." He gave Doumeki an accusative eye.

Doumeki pressed his lips together and frowned. But he returned the accusation. "Gokui-san said something else, didn't he? Something about not accepting customers anymore?"

Watanuki pressed his lips together and frowned. "I can keep going," he said. But it sounded like a question even to himself.

Doumeki frowned more heavily. "Don't you want to have the strength to keep the spirits out?"

"Of course!"

"And don't you want to keep granting wishes?"

"Yes, but—"

"You can't have both," Doumeki said. His voice was flat to prevent the straining sound. "You have to choose. You can't have both things you want." You can't have wonderful Watanuki dependent on you and then confess your love for him.

Watanuki wrinkled his nose and glared. "If I grant wishes, I'll grow stronger."

"Will you!" Doumeki exclaimed sarcastically. "Like this right here?" He reached for Watanuki's arm, holding it up until its sleeve fainted down.

"Hey! What are you—"

"Is this scar from a wish that made you stronger?" He pointed savagely at the red mouth on the fair skin. He tugged Watanuki's collar across, where ointment still glazed a weal. "Is this cut from a customer who knew what they did to you by asking for your help?" He ripped Watanuki's robe open further ("_Doumeki!_") and yelled "Is the gash across your chest helping you, Watanuki? " He bunched the material and shook the boy. "Or is it just a growing target for the monsters out there that would kill me to get to you?"

With a motion of his arms that made Doumeki's eyes fly wide, Watanuki gripped the man's shoulders. "Okay! I'm a target to them!" he roared. He shook back. "But they're a target to you! And if I had to trust one of the two to make the shot, which one do you think I would pick?"

Doumeki's fingers pinched only air as he stepped away.

Watanuki breathed forcefully. He tugged cover over his bare chest. "I'm going to bed." The air buzzed. "We won't talk about the customers today."

"You're going to help him, then?" Doumeki exhaled. He stepped up to Watanuki as the boy turned to leave. "Are you going to help yourself and help him? Or are you going to help the customers - help the monsters?"

Watanuki watched him with a firmly set jaw. He blew out one defiant breath. "Both."  
He glanced once more at Doumeki's ruffled frame – ruffled by him – before he flushed and was gone.

Doumeki turned away himself. He kicked at the floor. Then, realising this wasn't enough, he crumpled onto it and stabbed it with his fingers.  
He laughed bluntly, just to make a sound that wasn't pathetically weak. "Is scarring me making you stronger, Watanuki?" he whispered bitterly. "Does it help?"

He could feel Yuuko's protective bond stretch tangibly across the shop. And for the first time, he could feel the need for it.

"Or does it just make me as big a target as you?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Any Worst Requests**  
ASifFiction

Yuuko wished for him to keep on living. But no one can prevent the inevitable.

→O  
Watanuki  
→O

Doumeki held the egg up to the light. It gleamed shyly.  
"Well?" Watanuki whispered.  
His forehead creased. "I still have to choose."

"Well, make your mind up quickly. Boiled or scrambled? Honestly, it isn't hard." Watanuki tapped the fork against the bowl with a hollow clanging noise, as though he rather hoped Doumeki would pick scrambled just as an excuse for him to beat something.

Doumeki grunted.

He sighed. "Scrambled it is."  
He bustled across the kitchen, being careful to make at least twice as much noise as usual. His ears sought the sound of the door among the beating of the fork. Plenty of food to keep Doumeki busy.

He rolled the warm, creamy egg onto a plate and dropped it on the table. "There."

Doumeki watched him for several seconds without a word. Watanuki wondered if the temperature of his neck had risen, or if he was imagining the heat.

"Thanks."

Watanuki was transfixed. He wasted moments that could have been used for checking the door. He was far too weak now to protest, to throw a flail, to even resist at all. Those golden-brown eyes were pinching at his resolve.

He'd first started the anger to distract Doumeki from noticing the strange things he felt around him, and now he couldn't help but to gaze at him fondly.  
He'd handled not looking (except secret glances) when he had just wanted to kiss Doumeki. But if this affection were because of erections then he hated to think how he'd react to Doumeki's stare if he wanted more. If he wanted to cum hard against the archer's chest.

He'd probably end up kissing him as soon as he met Watanuki's eyes, or something equally ridiculous.

Not wanting to risk that particular occurrence, Watanuki backed out of the kitchen and slid its door closed. He settled himself in the same place he'd first seen Yuuko lounge. For added effect, he trailed one long leg onto the floor, and practised making his voice sound silky. _If I'm going to accept customers behind Doumeki's back, I may as well go all out and enjoy it._

Footsteps sounded, and he could see a silhouette at the door. "Come in."

The wall slid aside and was replaced by a dark-haired, unremarkable boy.  
_Don't think that,_ he chided himself. _The first time you saw Doumeki, you thought he was unremarkable._

_No,_ a much more irritating voice said. _You pretended he was._

The boy was no older than twelve, but he was tall and already showed signs of muscles through his school uniform. Watanuki wondered if the youth was frowning as he stepped out of his shoes and strode towards him.

They bowed.

"Sorry to intrude."  
"Not at all. Your arrival was destined."

The boy swayed against his curiosity, then snapped and scoured the walls with his eyes.  
Watanuki answered his silent question. "This is a wish shop."  
He blinked up at him with black eyes.  
"What's your name?"  
"Hiraku."  
"And your family name?"

Hiraku bowed, but did not regain their eye contact. "I don't want them involved in this."

Watanuki gave a snuffling laugh. "Wise," he commented. "I gave my name and birthday away freely to this shop's previous owner. Now look at me." He tugged at Yuuko's clothes. "The only one of us smart enough to keep himself to himself was-"  
Watanuki remembered Doumeki's presence just walls away. "What's your wish, Hiraku-kun?" he asked swiftly.

Much to his surprise, the young boy blushed. "It's my friend. There's something wrong with him. It's difficult for him to see."  
Watanuki mentally rifled through Haruka's books. "A cure for blindness, huh?"  
Hiraku shook his head rapidly. "He's fine, except..." his voice shrank. "Except for when they're around."  
"They?"  
"Things," he gestured. "They make him ill, but no one else can see them."

Watanuki lowered his chin. "How do you know they're there?"

The boy glared. "He isn't lying!"  
"Of course not."  
"I can feel them there, too! I just can't see them...if I could, I'd kick them. I'd kick them hard."

"Could they be..."  
Watanuki didn't even want to touch on the subject. "Do you live near here?"

The boy nodded. "Kichirou does. But it's worse here. There are less of them at my house. So I try to keep him there." Hiraku almost smiled. "He doesn't like that."

Watanuki smiled back. His was even more dilute than the child's. "Might they be...?" His silkiness was already slipping. "...Spirits?"

Hiraku's eyes widened only very slightly. He swallowed and nodded.

Watanuki tilted his head back, hoping to dry his eyes with hot upwards breaths.

Demons were attracted to him. If he helped this boy protect his friend, he would grow weaker and more would come for them. If Watanuki didn't help, he would grow stronger, and fewer would get through to him.  
Instead, they would gather around Kichirou. "Shit."

Hiraku didn't blink. "I can pay."

Watanuki smiled wryly. "That's not it. I'm just bad at exorcism. I never could handle those things." He beckoned the boy to sit opposite him. "It was my first wish here, you know?"  
Hiraku sat. He used his teeth to tug at the inside of his cheek. "What was your last?"

The room fell into silence.  
Watanuki looked half at the walls, half past them.

"It hasn't been granted yet."

→O  
Doumeki  
→O

Watanuki wasn't the only one with a secret.

It happened again on the night of the day Watanuki made him scrambled eggs. Watanuki ignored it for a time. Before he acknowledged it, Doumeki could do the same. Both of them could see the result of intense emotions through their shared eye, and the result was a bulge in the sheets.

He closed his eyes out of respect, but opened them periodically just to check.

Watanuki shuffled and rolled. Doumeki did the same.  
Watanuki rubbed at his eyes to busy his hands. Doumeki slipped the ring on and off his finger, watching it transform until the violent motion made him nautious.  
Watanuki dug his nails into the pillow or the mattress or the headboard. Doumeki wished to be the pillow or the mattress or the headboard.

He normally lasted as long as Watanuki did before giving a soft gasp and reaching between his legs, wishing it was his own hand sliding down Watanuki's stomach.  
He held himself and imagined how soft the tip would feel. He'd brush his thumb over it and draw the back of his hand along its length.  
He watched Watanuki's fingers work and it made him weak, but his thoughts sweated with ideas, with suggestions for Watanuki's skin. He'd toy with the dark hair and trail past his neck. He'd run circles down Watanuki's back, lower and lower. He'd play with his hole until he climaxed.

He never had nearly as much time to do these things to himself. Those thoughts brought him to the brink every time.

It was just as well – the way vegetables were good for him but never felt as nice sliding down his throat as something warm and creamy that Watanuki had made – just as well that he couldn't hear, as well as see, through that eye.

The truth was that the sounds Watanuki made were what first got Doumeki crazy about him. He'd inch closer to the bedroom every time this happened, hating himself but wishing he could hear just a little more. He didn't become bolder – if anything, he grew more terrified each time, but so curious that he'd take more steps towards him, willing his ears to be stronger.  
These days he'd be splayed against the door, panting.  
But it seemed that although plenty could get in to hurt Watanuki, nothing of the boy ever made its way out. The only sounds were of Doumeki's lungs and hand.  
He had to pull memories of Watanuki's cries from before he'd blocked his ears. At the thought of his voice Doumeki was tipped over the edge with air rushing through his ears as he fell. His mouth went dry and his hand was soaked.

He'd always have to plug his ears when Watanuki got annoyed.  
He couldn't hear him without his mind piping up.

"He's shouting exactly the way he would if you fucked him, Shizuka."

The idiot never knew how he affected him.

→O→O→O→O→O→O

AN: Doumeki would like to take this opportunity to apologise most sincerely for his OOC outburst last chapter. He states that he cares about Watanuki very much, and wasn't sure how otherwise to get the point across that he was badly injuring himself. He was also, understandably, under mild-to-considerable stress from fighting a powerful demon earlier in the day, and was frustrated that Watanuki seemed willing to risk that happening again. (Sorry, Arpita.)

Sorry it took so long to get this up! I've only just started writing xxxHOLiC fics, so every idea possible is bombarding me. I have two oneshots in progress, at least one more chapter story and a requested oneshot which will be up today with any luck. I'm also brainstorming for a wonderful crossover fic which I'll be lucky enough to beta. (Hi Audrey! Hi Audrey! *flops*)

Criticism, requests, compliments, remarks and anything else beginning with 'R' or 'C' (though we can stretch to other letters if you're willing to review) are always appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Any Worst Requests  
**ASifFiction

Yuuko wished for him to keep on living. But no one can prevent the inevitable.

* * *

→ODoumeki→O

* * *

Watanuki jittered around the garden like he was hiding something.

Doumeki leant against the fence, his stance relaxed. He himself definitely had something to hide. He toyed with the idea of telling Watanuki, just to see what it did to him.

"Oi."  
Watanuki stumbled. He hopped from foot to foot to scan the horizon. "What?"

Doumeki pointed.  
"You missed a spot."

Watanuki stared at the weeds waving from the ground.  
His hips propped up his hands and he glared at the archer. "Shut up, Doumeki! You're hardly doing any better. You should be working - why do you look so..." Un-flustered. "...Calm?"

_It couldn't be satisfaction. _Not unless he could've got in that bedroom and calmed Watanuki down once and for all.  
He shook that dangerous thought from his head. _Calm. I really shouldn't be._

Watanuki grumbled and bent back to the weeds. He tugged the earth the way he pulled at his hair.

Doumeki tried not to think this, and turned back to his own task. He wriggled the standing arrows free of the dirt and wiped the dusty blood against his trousers.

In the long silence outside the shop, Doumeki plucked arrows and Watanuki plucked weeds.

The silence around Watanuki intensified as he drew his hands free of the wild plants and stood leaning. His throat was shy. "Doumeki."  
"Hmm? Did you..." His words faded as the boy looked at him.

"Last night..."

Doumeki watched blood race into the skin below his eyes and thought_ Oh, there goes the calm._

"Last night I couldn't sleep."

_I know. And I thank you for it._

"I..." his chin fell closer to his chest. "I got up and just walked around." He jerked his head back up and garbled "Nowhere – nowhere in particular. I only came up to your room because I heard noises."

_Wonderful. Please, _Doumeki's head groaned,_ say I didn't dream about what happened through our eye..._

Oh – he hadn't.  
No such luck.

Watanuki trembled. "I thought something had got in." He shuffled forwards – but Doumeki's area of work was by the fence, where the far arrows stood, and his own was among the weeds by the shop. To move across the void in the middle would be interacting outside of work.

They stared across empty space.

Watanuki had a strange mixture of pain on his brow and curiousity in his eyes. "Doumeki, were you dreaming about them - the things that keep coming here?" More pain than anything else, actually. "Are they – are they really that bad?"

They slashed at his face. They wheedled their claws through the seals, pinging them back one by one. They screamed, but did not notice Doumeki's cries. They were focused on his heart.  
As Doumeki tried to choose his words to explain, his breathing came tentatively. "I see things," he said. "I have nightmares about that creature - the last one that came here. And...I see Yuuko. When I'm nervous. She talks about – about things I don't want to hear. It's because of all this magic she put on the shop." He eyed its walls with distaste, as though she were emanating from the building as he spoke. "It's like when its defences weaken, she's being released."  
"It's not weakening!"  
Doumeki just looked at him.

He swallowed. "I'm sorry you have those dreams."  
He swivelled an arrow's head in the dirt. "Can't be helped."  
"It..." Watanuki's mind seemed to work. He was probably realising that the only way to help was to keep away demons. And the only way to keep away demons was to stop granting wishes.  
Doumeki waited for him to agree: _Y__ou're right. Nothing we can do. Tough luck._

"Doumeki -" he started. He bit his lip and shifted his position. "Doumeki, about the egg –"  
"Scrambled," he said. He'd decided he liked its easy-to-swallow texture.

Watanuki shook his head. "No," he whispered. "Your egg."

Doumeki stopped pulling arrows for a moment. Then he bent to tug a stubborn one from the ground. "Oh."

"When can it be used, again?" he said with a lightness that Doumeki didn't notice.

He spoke stiffly, as though reading from a textbook. "The egg can be used only once. It provides permanent but weak protection. It is to be used only as a last resort." _It is to be used on you,_ he thought. _If all else fails._

Watanuki coughed once. "Just wanted to check."

Doumeki's eyes flicked upwards. He'd sounded thoroughly miserable. "Hey. Is something wrong?"  
Watanuki smiled across - but it seemed to falter even as it travelled to Doumeki. "Always."

He stopped himself staring with a shuffle. "Well, is there anything I can do?"  
"Yeah. Can you go collect arrows from behind the shop?"  
Doumeki sighed. "I meant, to help you."  
"Trust me. That's the biggest help you can be."

Doumeki knew he shouldn't be surprised by this brushing off, but he glared all the same.  
He paced the corner. The sounds of grass crunching beneath him tapered out as he met the dry earth of the back garden.  
There were fewer arrows back here; but without Watanuki, the workload seemed to stretch right into the distance.

* * *

→OWatanuki→O

* * *

Even with Doumeki gone, Watanuki jittered.  
He checked his watch.

He'd asked Hiraku to come back today, and to bring Kichirou with him. Observing the boy probably wouldn't give him any clue as to what would help him – but meeting him would give Watanuki an incentive to try.

Of course Doumeki had chosen now to collect the rest of the arrows.

He glanced around once more, and slid inside the shop.

He ran straight to his usual seat like it was drawing him. A true guilty pleasure; the more guilty he felt about Doumeki, the more pleasurable this became.

The door twitched. He called out to it. "Come in."  
Then he remembered he was meant to be keeping up his Yuuko-esque appearance. "Shit."

He hadn't garnished himself with satin butterflies today. Without knowing why, he'd put on his old school uniform.

Hiraku appeared in the doorway. He was accompanied by a few rogue whispers and irritated mutters. "Well, I think it's stupid."  
Hiraku shushed them. "He said to come in."  
"He can't help us!"  
"You haven't met him."  
"I don't _want_-" however much Kichirou didn't want to meet Watanuki, he did so now with a clumsy stumble from Hiraku's tug on his slight arm.  
He ducked his head, so at first all Watanuki saw was messy hair. It was slightly lighter than Hiraku's, more of a very dark brown. But then he looked up to glare at Hiraku, to snatch his arm back and to rub it. His eyes were pale green, and he was wrinkling his nose.

He turned to glare at Watanuki, too; but stopped frowning to stare instead.

Watanuki smiled at them both. "Good to see you, Hiraku-kun. I assume this is Kichirou-kun?"

"No," Kichirou said.  
"Yes," Hiraku said, and nudged his friend with a whisper. "Don't be ridiculous."  
"Oh, don't be ridiculous?" He hissed back. "The whole seeing spirits thing is fine, but refusing to give my name to a stranger – _that's_ ridiculous?"

Watanuki cleared his throat. "Seeing spirits isn't fine. That's why I want to help you." He gestured. "Sit down."

Kichirou stared even harder at him. Hiraku sat straight down in front of Watanuki, and the smaller boy followed warily.

"I'd like to ask you some questions." The boy seemed pale - perhaps from nerves. "First of all, when did you start seeing spirits?"

Kichirou said nothing for several moments, so Hiraku piped up. "When he was much younger."  
Kichirou smacked his arm. "I can speak, you idiot!"  
"Obviously not."

"Kichirou?" Watanuki interrupted. "When did this all begin?"  
He blushed. With great reluctance, he muttered, "When I was much younger."

Watanuki studied the pair. "Second question. When did they first start to harm you?"

"It was-" Hiraku began.  
"Shut up!" he shrieked.

He turned back to Watanuki. "Not very long ago, I don't think. It was when more of them started to come here."

Watanuki swallowed at the word _more_. "Third. What's stopped them from..." he skipped any words relating to the child's mortality. "...So far?"

Kichirou looked to Hiraku for help.  
The other boy shrugged back at him, mouth firmly closed.  
Kichirou looked down; face even deeper into a blush. "Him," he said gruffly, pointing to his left.

"I see."  
Watanuki stood up and walked across the room, as though a solution could be found in some corner. "I think I'll have to consider this. It's very difficult to create a permanent protection about a person, and the price is very high."

Kichirou mouthed, "Price". He scrabbled for Watanuki's attention. "Oh, mister? I don't have much money..."  
"That's fine. I don't accept money. And sometimes..." He crouched down to Kichirou's level and grinned. "...If I'm fond of the customer, sometimes I'll even pay myself."  
Kichirou's face bubbled with a happy smile.  
"I just need to find a way to protect you. I'll have to ask-" he swallowed before reaching Doumeki's name. "I'll have to ask."  
Kichirou moved closer with curiosity. "Who do _you_ ask?"

Watanuki stared over the top of his head. "Someone who knows a lot about this sort of thing. Someone I can ask anything. Or," he corrected, "Almost anything."  
His head snapped back down to look at them. "Someone who's always there, like Hiraku-kun."

"Huh!" Kichirou said. "I wish he _wasn't_."  
"I'm only trying to help."  
"I don't need it!"  
Hiraku rolled his eyes. "Okay, you don't need my protection. You were fine before I was helping out. That's why you broke your arm."

"Shut up!" He pulled a cushion from Watanuki's vacated seat and launched it at Hiraku. "That was nothing. I tripped!"  
"On what? Your ego?"  
More cushions fell around him in a blizzard.  
"I do _not_ need your help," Kichirou shouted. "And once Watanuki-san's protected me, I won't need it at all!"

"Enough." His voice was sharp. "If those are your intentions, Kichirou-kun, I won't protect you at all."

The boys turned around to gape at him.

"You need Hiraku-kun with you, even as a precaution, even after I've helped. Always."

Kichirou groaned. "Don't say always..."

Watanuki nodded. "Always. I'm just like you. I have the school uniform to prove it. I can see spirits like you, too, and they can see me." He smiled. "The trouble is, they don't like me very much. Now you," he said, turning aside to organise the spilled cushions. "You're lucky enough to have someone who's willing to protect you, no matter what." He looked back to Kichirou, and he looked directly. "Don't take that for granted."

Kichirou snuffled slightly.

Hiraku touched him gently on the shoulder. "Don't cry."

He shrugged his friend off. "I'm not!"

Hiraku stared at his feet.

"Watanuki-san," Kichirou said softly, "It would be really nice if you could play in the park with us some time."

Hiraku sighed very lightly, but didn't take his eyes off the other boy.

Watanuki smiled. "That would be nice," he admitted. "Unfortunately I don't think it's possible. Feel free to come round here any time though, okay?"

The boy nodded.

_Of course, I'll have to make up excuses if Doumeki thinks – well, realises – that you're a customer, _he thought._ Something like 'I'm into child pornography.'  
_He nodded. That would be safer than_ 'I'm granting wishes again.'_

He looked across at the two boys. "Kichirou-kun, could you wait outside while I talk to your friend?"

Kichirou said "He's not my friend," but trotted out all the same.

Hiraku looked expectantly at the smiling Watanuki.  
"He's very forward."  
Hiraku glared. "I'm not going to apologise for him."  
"Good."

Hiraku looked at his feet and shuffled for a long while. When suddenly he looked up, his face was red. "You can help him, right?" He blurted.  
"I'll try my very best."

Hiraku gave a shaky nod, but his blush didn't fade as he fidgeted. "I really like him a lot."

Watanuki opened his mouth, but decided against speaking when his lips quivered.

Hiraku looked into his eyes. "You know when you want to help someone? Like when just thinking about them getting hurt makes you feel bad?" His voice wasn't as deep as before.

Watanuki stepped forwards and placed his hands on Hiraku's shoulders. "You both need to rest," he said firmly. "You watch over Kichirou-kun, and leave the spirits to me."

Hiraku pressed his lips together in a tense smile. He gave a mock-salute and turned.

"Oh, and Hiraku-kun?"  
"Yeah?"  
Watanuki smirked. "You should give him a hug."

He blinked about five times. "But that would be weird."  
"Very," Watanuki agreed. "It'd get better, though."

He stared at Watanuki. "Okay." The boy tugged the inside of his cheek, just like before. "Is that because you want a hug?"

Watanuki's mind flared with images from last night's thoughts.  
He felt his face heating. "Sort of."

Hiraku nodded, then ran out to check on his friend.

The egg wasn't made for sharing. Nor was it Watanuki's to give away. It would be cruel of him to even ask Doumeki.

"What else, then?" He murmured to himself. "What else could protect them?"  
He had a horrible thought. Every other thought in his head rounded on it, aghast, and chased it away with sticks. But while they chased, it was clear in his mind.

Doumeki would hate him.  
But he had to try.

He looked around him, even peeping at the high shelves. Nobody could see this practise session.

He held his hands out before him and rubbed them together. He pressed the second finger of each hand against the other. He raised his wrists sharply, and released their touch.

His hands gave off three yellow sparks with a burping sound.

He cleared his throat and tried again with intensified focus.  
His fingertips vibrated. Sparks frothed again, but they elongated and grew greener.  
As it branched to make shining roads in the air, the seal expanded until it was as least the height of Kichirou. Light pulsed along it.  
Watanuki only breathed when it did. Its reflection ate at his glasses and his jaw was unsteady.

It flexed towards him. "Whoa." He steadied himself. It squirmed again. "Hang on, I'll-"  
The seal bucked – Watanuki flipped backwards into the cushions, knocking them straight back onto the floor.

Without his contact, the juddering ball of light whined then shrank flat into a line. Each side of the line faced outwards; it split in two, and they streamed away through opposite walls.

There was a loud crack.

"Nononoononnono," Watanuki begged quietly. "No no," he tripped over a cushion, "No." He thudded towards the door. "Stupid," he snapped at himself. "Dangerous experimental magic AFTER the defenceless children have left the shop!"

He wrenched at the front door. The boys peered back at him. Hiraku was aglow with confidence – Kichirou looked shaken and confused and altogether happier than when he'd arrived.

But the stench had already reached Watanuki's nose. "I'm so sorry," he breathed. Then he steeled his voice. "In. Quickly."

Hiraku turned white and pushed Kichirou towards the door ("Get off me!" "You didn't mind a minute ago." "Shut _up_!") as Watanuki yelled into the sky.

"Doumeki!"

The archer appeared round the corner, readying himself with an armful of arrows. "There's lots of them coming."

Watanuki nodded, and then clutched his stomach. He smothered his lower face with his palm.

"You need to go inside," Hiraku insisted to Kichirou.  
"No way! I'm staying out here."

Doumeki froze. "What the hell is this?"  
Watanuki prepared his excuses – but when he tried to say 'porn' in front of Doumeki, all that came out was "Hnn."  
Doumeki took a step towards him. They weren't even touching, but Watanuki's heart fluttered with panic. "Watanuki, are they your customers?"

"Kichirou, please just go in!"  
"You're not coming, too?"  
"I'm staying to fight."  
Kichirou didn't move.  
"Why? Do you want me to stay with you?"  
Kichirou scowled. "No." He contorted his mouth, looking for the right words to offer himself a loophole. But he found none, and instead turned inside with an indignant grunt.

Doumeki shook his head and gripped his bow. "You never did listen to a single word I say."  
Watanuki's eyes flared. "Is that what you're making this about, you hypocrite? Like you listen to me when I talk! You just cover your damned ears-"  
Doumeki's jaw locked. "_That_ is a necessity," he growled. "And _this_ is for your protection."  
"Maybe I don't want your protection!"

Hiraku finally moved from the door to yell "Is this really the time to have a domestic?"

Watanuki and Doumeki looked at each other. Their cheeks reddened simultaneously. They looked away, glanced back – and then looked up at the sky.  
"Shit." It was already clouded with spirits – not even half the size of the last, not even close, but so many of them. The green creatures didn't move as a flock; most were grazing, but the first one had spotted them.  
It whimpered with delight and hurtled towards the shop. Its saliva showered the ground. Its jaws snapped at air.

Doumeki released an arrow. The spirit whined backwards and fell crunching into the fence.

More of them turned as realisation seeped through the crowd. Ignoring the mangled green corpse below them, they gave famished screams and aimed for Watanuki.

"Not intelligent, are they?" Doumeki yelled over the shouts and thuds.  
"There...no, Doumeki, to the left...there..." There were too many for Watanuki to guide Doumeki from a distance. He crossed the space between them to Doumeki's shoulder. "Up. UP!" He pulled his arm.

"What can I do?" Hiraku cried helplessly.  
Watanuki looked back, past hands still locked to the archer. "Guard the door!" He called. "I'll tell you if one reaches it."  
Hiraku's arms barely spanned the doorway, but his hands clutched against it with determination.

Watanuki's skin fizzed with the contact, but he gulped in air and refused to listen to his hormones. "Left," he commanded, and felt weak when Doumeki followed his touch obediently. He tugged Doumeki's arm in the right direction, and together they didn't miss a shot. "Down." _Further down, _he wanted to say_. Further. Now, move your hand...just like this..._

But soon their arms were stiff from the effort, and still spirits bounded towards the shop. Where once the arrows had outnumbered the beasts, just a meagre few lay at Doumeki's feet. Green seemed to blot out the sky.

Watanuki could not let go of Doumeki now, and it was not from the feel of his warm skin through his shirt. His limbs trailed and billowed as though shaken by a breeze each time the archer turned to aim. His stomach turned over and over.

Doumeki spat at the floor. "Hiraku!" He shouted. "Pull me up some arrows!"  
"But...the door..."  
A demon claw whipped through Watanuki's hair. "Do it now!"

Reflections of the spirit-filled sky shone in Hiraku's black eyes.  
He ran to the nearest clump of arrows. He tugged. "They're...I can't..." He heaved again but staggered with defeat. As he wheeled around, more arrows caught his eye.  
He climbed the back of a spirit he couldn't see to pull the arrow from its soft flesh.  
Then he jumped from shoulder to invisible arm, and when he could pull nor carry more, he left them in the cloud of dust at Doumeki's feet.

Watanuki scrabbled against gravity. He pointed behind Hiraku. "Door..." He finally stopped clinging to Doumeki, if only to avoid spattering him with his vomit.

The wide-eyed boy was far from the entrance. But at this word he ran so fast his silhouette shook under the shadow of monsters. He sealed his back to the door. He shook like the aim on a moving target - he lashed with limbs like arrows.

The demon moved in close as though to kiss him; it ignored his flailings. Its gaze rolled down his body and it licked its lips. Hiraku's hands and feet dented its skin, but it didn't move. It looked between him and the door; deciding whether it was worth this snack before moving onto Kichirou.

It must have decided, "yes".

"Kichirou!" Hiraku screamed. "Stay-"

Doumeki swang upwards and shot at the door. He fired again into its body, then span and let the last blaze of arrows into the hungry sky.  
The dying collapsed into the dead and crushed out each last wheeze of air.

Gravity seemed to suck harder at Doumeki's legs. His bow melted into a thimble which tottered exhaustedly on the earth.  
He ran his trembling hand up Watanuki's back as the boy retched again.

Hiraku slid to the floor in convulsions.

"Hir-" Watanuki coughed and wiped his mouth. "Is everyone-"  
"Yeah," the boy muttered, but he still clutched his shaking sides. "Yeah."

Watanuki spat at the ground, trembling.

Hiraku hauled himself upwards with slippery limbs. He disappeared inside the shop, feet thundering.

Watanuki looked around himself. The ground was blistered with cadavers and a pool of blood was inching towards his toe.  
He wrenched his foot away and made what might have been a joke underneath the shaking of his voice. "Great. Weeds were one thing, but this'll need one hell of a gardener."

Doumeki shook his head. "I think we should leave them," he said. At Watanuki's confused expression, he added, "It's November. We won't be using the garden much. If we leave these things out here, it'll act as a warning - It might ward the others away."

Watanuki's heart rocked upwards to his throat. _Doumeki, you're so clever, _he wanted to say._ Doumeki, you're so brave. You're so selfless.  
_He burned with the words. It was only in these circumstances that he denied himself what he wanted.

Hiraku slid back out of the door and onto the step. His shivering had visibly lessened.

Watanuki sat up. "Are you two alright?"

He nodded and continued to stare.  
Doumeki put the thimble on his finger.

Hiraku tried to breathe. "Mister...Doumeki-san." He looked across at them and nodded. "I think you should give him a hug."

"Oh, no, Hiraku..." Watanuki said in alarm.  
"What I did is," he interrupted, "I said 'everything's going to be alright.' And then...I hugged him."

Doumeki peered into Watanuki's eyes.  
"What he said."

And then he wrapped his warm arms around Watanuki's back, either not noticing or not minding the blood and the dirt and the sweat.

Watanuki's lips fell apart. He hugged back, burying his head against Doumeki's neck. He knew that his mouth was pressing along with the rest of his face, and he didn't care.

Hiraku slowly rose to the door. Kichirou peeped out at him.  
The smaller boy looked him in the eyes and said "Take off your clothes."

Hiraku reeled back – surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

"You're covered in spirit blood," he spat. "You stink."

Hiraku's mouth curled. He tugged his clothes away from his skin.  
The material appeared sodden; but when he wrung it, nothing fell, and his hands came away dry.

Doumeki tugged away from Watanuki. "Come on - you'd better go home. I'll take you. I can protect you."

The air lurched with wind, and when it settled everything was cooler. Little spits of rain darted down.  
Hiraku pulled Kichirou with him as they followed Doumeki down the path.

Watanuki gazed after them. An icy drop against his neck jolted him, and he said "Come back for dinner."

Their footsteps crunched. Doumeki didn't turn. "I'm not hungry."

"Doumeki?"

He sighed. "These boys need my help. And they seem to want it more than you do."

"Doumeki..."

He didn't stop for a second.

Watanuki stood in school uniform, staring at them through the bristling rain.  
They seemed so much bigger than he was, all three of them, and he wondered how many years had passed since he'd first worn these clothes.

* * *

→O→O→O→O→O→O

* * *

**AN:** Gasp, Doumeki done left the shop!  
I kept wanting to write "Yuuko" in place of Watanuki's name during his scene with Kichirou and Hiraku. I'm not sure what that means.

A hug? Nuu, Watanuki wants Doumeki-smex. Quite obviously.

Longer chapter, which is why it took so long. Sorry for the wait! I did really enjoy writing it, though.

The only thing I like more than reviews is people who've already reviewed. Thanks so much - if you ever need anything, let me know!


	6. Chapter 6

**Any Worst Requests**

ASifFiction

Yuuko wished for him to keep on living. But no one can prevent the inevitable.

**AN:**GST. I'm worried people will start jumping ship; but that's the risk I take by trying to add Plot™ to porn. The balance shifts over to porn soon, and I'll release the next oneshot at the same time as the first smex chapter.  
P.S. OVER NINE THOUSAND!

* * *

→OWatanuki→O

* * *

Rain goaded Watanuki Kimihiro.

He stared at it from behind the window. For every drop that fell, the chance of Doumeki's return was washed away.  
He refused to let his burning eyes contribute to that total.

It was four days after the battle before he saw the shimmering outline of a person through the rain.

He'd counted the time by watching the sky: as it had grown dark on the first night, his lack of blankets let fear and cold grip him. His eyes stared wide through the window until he shivered himself to sleep.  
In the morning, rationality returned with the sun. Of course Doumeki wouldn't leave the boys alone at night. He couldn't even see to walk back, in the darkness.

At this realisation, watching through daylight was even more terrifying. There was nothing stopping Doumeki returning - but still he didn't appear. Not even daylight could alleviate the panic that had frozen Watanuki to his seat.

The nights rained by.  
He could barely move to eat, or wash, or try to phone again – there was no response when he called the temple.

At first he passed the outline off as another mirage (false hope only made his vision more blurry and his eyelashes damp), but now it was unmistakeably a boy. Too small to be Doumeki. It was Hiraku.

The door whooshed.

"Watanuki-san?"  
His voice sounded small, as though it were hiding.  
"Watanuki-san?" He padded into the room and stared. "You're in the same clothes."

Watanuki gazed back at him. "Oh." He looked down at the filthy uniform. "Oh. I should change." He looked at Hiraku. "I..."

The boy was turned halfway towards the door, poised to escape. He was biting his lip.

"Hiraku." Watanuki's voice croaked slightly. How could his throat be dry? He'd been staring at water for days. "Do you know where he is?"

Hiraku nodded and shrugged. "There's an old man with a shop. His house is close to Kichirou's. Doumeki-san looks after his cat while he works. And he's been protecting Kichirou."

_Tell him to come back, _Watanuki tried to say. He swallowed. "Is he coming back?"

Hiraku's lips twitched as he looked around the room. "I...I think he wants to."

_Why doesn't he? _He swallowed again. Years ago, he would've grabbed Doumeki by the collar and snapped out his questions.  
By now, he'd worked out the answer.

"There are lots of spirits following us. It's much worse."

Watanuki nodded. "I'm working on it."

Hiraku just stared at him. He didn't say that a man who sat for days looking through the window couldn't be thinking, let alone working. But by now, Watanuki had worked this out as well. He tried for a third swallow, but there was no moisture left in his mouth.  
He coughed. "Hiraku...when it happened, you shook." He realised this was an understatement, and tilted his head. "Badly. Like someone in shock. But then a few minutes later, you were fine." He shook his head."How?"

Hiraku smiled very slightly. The corner of his mouth swung up as he bit the inside of his cheek. "You're wondering because you've been shaking the same way."

Watanuki smiled guiltily back. "So much for the wish-granter. I'm looking to my customer for a cure."

Hiraku stepped forwards; he looked upwards and said brightly, "Does this count as part of our price?"

Watanuki's first laugh of the week trickled out. "Consider this a gift voucher for a wish. At least until I can handle your main one."  
Hiraku seemed to shrink down. "I was shaking because I thought I'd never see Kichirou again. The last time we spoke, we argued."

Watanuki blinked, leaning forwards. "So...you just had to see him again?"

He shook his head. "I had to apologise."

Apologise to Doumeki?  
Watanuki groaned. The outlook had to be bad if that were the preferable scenario. "Okay, Hiraku. One last thing. The other day you, mentioned a..." he cleared his dry throat. "A domestic." He said quickly; "Where d'you hear that term?"

"Oh." He ruffled his hair. "Mum says it to Dad a lot. She'll start yelling at him, but he won't say anything back. At least, not anything I can hear. She'll yell some more, then she'll remember I'm in the house and she'll say 'let's not have a domestic'." He frowned.

Watanuki's eyebrows shot up. "Do you know what they fight about?"

Hiraku shrugged one shoulder. "Other long words. I don't remember."

Watanuki stood up from the window and walked across to put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "I can help you with that, too, you know – any time you need to talk."

He looked out the window himself. "Thanks."

"Tell Doumeki," Watanuki said steadily, "That there's always food and drink for him here." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, what's he eaten all week?"

A worried frown jumped onto his face. "We were standing next to him, and his tummy rumbled."  
Watanuki smiled softly. "He's as stubborn as ever."  
"You miss him."

Watanuki clapped his hand over Hiraku's mouth. Raising one finger, he said "Don't you dare mention that when you tell him."

Hiraku wriggled free and grinned.

"Hiraku."

He turned and ran.

"Hey – Hiraku!" He groaned. "You're going to tell him, aren't you?"

"Yep!" His voice rang back.

Watanuki covered his face and waited for the footsteps to fade.

Then he pulled a blanket up to the window for later. He washed, changed his clothes and prepared a meal. He even ate a few mouthfuls – but when he heard his stomach gurgle with hunger, thoughts of Doumeki subdued the movement of his chopsticks.  
He ate another bite then had to push the meal away.  
He returned to his sentry post.

Birdsong woke him in the morning, but he only realised he was awake when the sound of heavy footsteps outside the door sent his heartbeat into overdrive. The blanked rolled off him as he sat up. He whispered "Doumeki", and ran to the door.

His whisper was correct.

For a moment it didn't matter that they couldn't run into each other's arms and kiss and kiss some more, because he had been starved of Doumeki and it was enough just to stare.

On his eyes' first lap they checked that everything was still attached: his broad shoulders and golden eyes and dark hair.  
Then they circled again and noticed the sag of the shoulders and the bloodshot whites around the gold and the grease in his hair.

"I'm sorry," Watanuki breathed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

But still the shaking would not go away. His throat ached. He reached for Doumeki's wrist – the physical contact seemed to reassure him the archer was there, and his breathing grew stronger. "Come on. I can make us some food."

Doumeki's looked down at Watanuki's slender hand, unconciously rubbing his wrist. His face quivered. "I'm sorry," he burst back in return. He ducked his head. "I just can't watch you hurt yourself."

Watanuki shook his head, at first too relieved to be in a conversation with him to even talk. "This is the last time," he whispered. "I promise."

Doumeki looked down. "Yeah." He stopped speaking, but he hadn't finished.

Watanuki waited until anger forced up words. "Yeah. I said that the last time-"  
"Every time."  
"-But I mean it."  
"What if I wished that you stopped granting them?"  
"Doumeki!" he dropped his hold on the archer's arm. "I promise, it's over! Don't you trust me?"  
"I don't even want you granting this one."

Watanuki turned away, folding his head down. "It's too late," he muttered. "In the event of two conflicting wishes, I must grant the one first asked of me: Hiraku's."

The door made a gasping sound as Doumeki grabbed hold of it.  
"Then I can't watch."

"Dou-" he faltered. "Hey, stop!" He swung out his arm again and brushed the door frame clear.

Doumeki stared at him, waiting.

He pushed back his hair. "Look - just stay and eat, at least." His hand finished with the short strands of black and reached the back of his neck. His voice was already going, again – ever since Doumeki reached for the door. He scrabbled for something to make him stay and found himself admitting: "I made eggs," he croaked. "Every morning."  
He rubbed his head guiltily. "I don't know what you ate with Gokui-san, but I guess we owe him for all the demon-damage I'm causing."

He waited for Doumeki to comment on the "we".  
Instead, he looked aside and said "I'm protecting Kichirou. Will this grant their wish?"

Watanuki smiled. "No. It will help – but when a wish is granted, it must be done with a single, permanent action."

He jerked his head in a nod. "We'd better find a way soon." His eyes sought Watanuki's, and when they met they held them there.  
"It's impossible to protect you both."

As if agreeing, the shop gave a soft rumbling sound like some far away beam was creaking – like the centre page tearing in a large, closed book.

Watanuki shivered, and promptly realised the dreaded shaking had gone.

Doumeki dropped his gaze. "I should get back to the boys. They don't have anyone to defend them." He saw the other man's face and said, "I can visit tomorrow."

Watanuki's heart rolled down to his feet.  
He nodded. "If I find a way to grant their wish, will you come back?"

Doumeki faced away. "No."

Every part of Watanuki moved backwards but his feet.

Doumeki looked him over. "I'll come back no matter what."

At this, the smiling Watanuki slid the door open himself (albeit unintentionally – he was more grabbing hold of something to keep from keeling over), feeling warm enough that the icy wind didn't cool him. He was so giddy he didn't even notice the spirits swirling outside.

Their stench smacked him. He pulled the door back across as he fell, spluttering.

The floor rushed up to meet him.

"Watanuki!"  
He choked up at him, "Lots."

There was a sound like drums at the door. The stink wouldn't stay out of his nose, whatever he tried. His eyes fluttered.

He was faintly aware of Doumeki slipping one hand under his neck, and trying to raise him. "Watanuki. I need you to show me where they are, so I can get rid of them."

He shook himself awake. "I am not," he gulped in clean air. "Going back," he spat at the wood floor. "Out there."

The taste was still in his mouth. He whined and shivered back down. His head hit something soft and he closed his eyes.

Doumeki straightened and rose. "I'll fetch the demon air-freshener."

Watanuki watched his footsteps shift the floor. Its movement grew violent as he returned, pink can in hand, its gaudy label blaring. It read "Smells Like Clean Spirit".

Layers of the odour peeled away, and Watanuki could hear the faint hissing of the aerosol.  
He rubbed his eyes and sat half-upright. Doumeki was readying his bow.

Watanuki spluttered in panic. "Are you mental? Put that down! Did you see how many were out there?"  
"I can manage."

"Manage?" He pushed himself up on weak arms. "Doumeki, there were over nine thousand!"  
"You're exaggerating. Besides, if there are that many here, how bad will it be at Kichirou's place?"

Watanuki's stomach folded again. "Nn. I need to grant their wish."

Doumeki sighed. "No, you need to rest. I'll get through…this." He gestured at the door. "And I'll clear the air at his house."

"And..." The nausea migrated from his stomach and sleepiness set up camp. He swallowed a yawn. "...You'll come back?"

He nodded. "I promise."

Watanuki struggled against the ground. Doumeki dipped down instantly to help him, collecting his weak and rubbery limbs. "I'm taking you to bed."

"I…what?" He said, in a daze. Doumeki shushed him.  
He was rocked across the shop by a warm boat, and tipped into an ocean of sheets. The last thing he saw was the warm golden glow of twin lighthouses, and he whispered to them as he closed his eyes.

* * *

→ODoumeki→O

* * *

This was, without a doubt, the worst shit they had gotten into yet.

Doumeki ran through possible strategies in his head, and shook his head at every outcome.

Another spirit crashed into the door with a wail, and all he could do was wince. Just a wall away, the demons outnumbered him.  
At least Watanuki was asleep.

He stood up again and paced, twitching. There were arrows, but they weren't enough. Not even the diamond arrow – if he'd dare to risk it again. Were there other weapons in the storeroom? Undoubtedly, but would he be able to use them? He scowled as he argued inside his head. _What, then?_

As though looking around again would provide protection for Watanuki, he span desperately. There was still nothing in the room; well, except for a large book which would only subdue a spirit if thrown at its head.

The walls around the archer shuddered again.

Doumeki walked towards the book. It was Watanuki's encyclopaedia of monsters – perhaps it would have information on their weaknesses. He flipped through the pages, front to back, then did the same backwards towards the front cover. Nothing caught his eye. His heart thudded with the hopelessness – what was he even looking for?  
He scoured the pages once again, and stopped at a picture he hadn't noticed before.

It was of the spirits that had come in great numbers the last time he saw Watanuki. Doumeki reasoned that these were more likely to be outside than any of the others in the book, and ran his finger along the caption.

_Daijakaiju are often seen in flocks. Green in colour and descended from snakes (hence their name, "daija kaiju", or "serpent monster"), these spirits feed where there has been or there is soon to be the beast "Kiyokorosu"(p.455). Despite a lack of understanding for their surroundings and a name often described as "cutesy", Daijakaiju will kill mindlessly when hungry._

Something he saw jogged a memory in the back of his mind; the memory itself jogged forwards as he read, and he paused. He'd never heard of them, and evidently they were tame enough not to warrant advice on their weaknesses.  
But it was another word which had caught Doumeki. He was sure he'd heard it mentioned before, when Watanuki last read the book. When Watanuki had acted so strangely.

Doumeki jumped into the air as the wall ripped.

He scrabbled back across the floor and hit the far wall before he was far enough away. Claws scratched at the shop.  
Doumeki's heart thumped in his throat - there could be a dagger-like demon-claw slashing at his face, but he couldn't see it at all. He blinked aggressively until he saw white. Had anything even got in? His gaze twitched over the wall and he swallowed down heavy breaths, trying to think.

What had Watanuki said that time? He was asking Doumeki about his friends. And then he kept muttering, saying "It wasn't here for me. It can't be me," again and again.

A roar shuddered through the wall, and suddenly it didn't matter that Doumeki couldn't see the claw, because his mind filled in a picture of a curved, yellowing, ridged sword fit for ripping him apart at the neck with one twitch.

And it was moving towards the book.

When he threw it, it had landed in the middle of the room, halfway between him and death.

But that book would tell him why Watanuki had looked at him so strangely, and said such strange things, and not in a way that was Watanuki-strange, but in a way that grated at him until it lit a fire of panic.

The demon thundered. Heat pressed against Doumeki - it was going to reach him -

But he remembered the image of a horrific, purple creature, larger than a building.

He thew himself along the floor and grabbed out for the book.  
Air whipped his hair as he clutched it back, gasping, hugging it to his chest. Its corners pressed painfully through his clothes.  
He bent down to the book, his eager fingers overstepping and stumbling on pages ruffled by his hot breath.

He turned to page 455.

_Willing to demolish cities to reach its target, _it read, under the purple picture that was exactly as he remembered only somehow, more horrible - _the Kiyokorosu is a beast of immense determination and danger.  
Named after the fabled Kiyohime (_清姫_), or Kiyo, a woman who transformed into a serpent-demon from the rage of unrequited love, and – of course – korosu: to kill._

_The Kiyokorosu feeds on the souls of those experiencing one-sided or unrequited love._

The rest of the text merged as the book slid from his slackened hands. It thudded onto the floor, its pages painfully bent.

Little gasping sounds escaped Doumeki's mouth, but they were drowned by the battering of the walls.  
Either he was crying, or his eyes themselves shook.

Watanuki knew.

It was like a creeping itch over his body – but he could not scratch it, as his skin had disappeared to reveal the beating of his heart.  
He wanted to stab out at something, to shout – but he simply sat, pinned to the floor, trying to hide behind the shaking.

Outrage and horror and accusations fired in his head. Why hadn't Watanuki said? What _had _Watanuki said? And why had he himself been _stupid_ enough to bring up this monster in the first place?

The fire in his face screeched. He could feel the boy's laughter now, the cruel gleam in his eyes and the distaste he surely felt for disgusting, despicable Doumeki…  
His stomach curled over and over, but still he didn't move.

He could deny it – or was it too late? He could try; but then he'd have to mention it. If Watanuki would only stop _laughing_…

"_He probably mentioned it,"_ a voice among the echoing groans of his head cried out, _"t__o every customer who walked in."_

Of course they'd all notice that he was constantly by Watanuki's side...pouring him another drink. Staring. Stalking.  
They couldn't help but ask. "Is he your…assistant?"  
"Slave, more like," Watanuki would laugh, because it was true. "Completely in love with me, it's ridiculous…"

Again the urge to hit out with motion and voice. But then Watanuki would come running through, and facing him would be impossible; like facing the nails of a closing iron maiden.

All he could do was hide. He couldn't hide his feelings, now – those were out. But he could hide himself, in an attempt to stay out of Watanuki's thoughts.

His body would not even allow him to swallow. He stumbled through the heat surrounding him, towards the door, and the crowd of violent demons which were preferable to remaining with his humiliation.

If possible, he hoped there were a Kiyokorosu still outside.

* * *

Inside the shop, the structure creaked with the weight of the spirit that had taken the roof as its perch. The sound filtered downwards, and Watanuki frowned in his sleep.

* * *

→O→O→O→O→O→O


	7. Chapter 7

**Any Worst Requests**

ASifFiction

Yuuko wished for him to keep on living. But no one can prevent the inevitable.

**AN:**Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far! I should have another oneshot out today - perhaps it's not the same as a cookie (or is it...?) but I hope you enjoy the Smut of Thanks.

Phew, it all starts to come out…including our boys. This isn't over yet. Here's the test to see when it's ended:  
1.) Check to see that the "yaoi" marker's still in the description. If it is (and it will be) and there hasn't yet been sex, it hasn't finished.  
2.) If there has been sex, check to see that the "complete" marker's not in the description. If it's not there, you haven't yet reached the climax that's been plotted since chapter 1.

But yes, it is still a tragedy. So who dies, and who has that sex…?

* * *

→OHiraku→O

* * *

If the phone rang now and it was Watanuki, there was very little that could've stopped Hiraku launching into a rant.

Where was Doumeki? What were they going to do about Doumeki? Kichirou was entirely unprotected! And to cap it off, there were more spirits outside than he could shake a bow at – not that shaking it would help. So much for wish-granting!  
He buzzed between glancing at Kichirou and cursing Doumeki.

The phone interrupted his fuming five times that day.  
At first it was tired-sounding men and falsely sympathetic women (there was a venomous eagerness as they asked after his "poor mother".).  
As it happened, the fifth person to call was Watanuki.

And Hiraku couldn't rant a thing.

He frowned as he lifted the phone. "She's busy."  
The frown itself lifted and he pushed the phone closer to his ear. "Watanuki-san?"

Hiraku's nerves and anger were sat on and squished to the bottom of his heart. Watanuki's voice was filled with the monotone of terror; too afraid to even alter its pitch, in case what it was saying came true.  
"Hiraku."

The boy's heart thudded against the sudden cold crowding his chest. He gripped the phone close. "What – what's happened?"  
Watanuki rocked between silence and whispers of his customer's name. "Hiraku…Hiraku…"  
He swallowed. "Watanuki-san-"  
"He's gone."

Hiraku blinked at the wall.  
He tried to say "Who", in case by some glitch in reality it wasn't Doumeki he was talking about. He tried to say "How", because there was no way their protector could be defeated. He tried to say "What", as the phone was crackling with sounds somewhere between static and sobbing and he might have heard wrong.

Evidently he still had some luck, as third time round the word came out. "What?"

"He said he'd come back." The words shuddered, like they were being sucked into rather than breathed out of his mouth. "He said he'd come back no matter what. And it's been…" He choked. "_Days_."

Hiraku looked at the phone. It wasn't moving, but there was a strange feeling along the wire - like the handset it was connected to was shaking. Shaking as much as the voice. "He promised."

"Watanuki-"

"Hiraku, what am I going to do?" The sounds were sliced through with tears. "I can't do anything…without him. I'm…nothing without him…" he failed to smother the receiver, and Hiraku caught the end of a sob. "Say he isn't gone…why does he have to be gone?"

Hiraku's mouth and eyes marked little "O's" in the air. "He's…he's dead?"

The phone buzzed with whining sounds. It finally whispered "Doumeki…Doumeki…why did I let you leave…"

Hiraku shook his head to straighten it. "Watanuki, wait. There are lots of spirits outside – it'll take a long time to clear them. How do you know he's not protecting you now?"  
"I can hear them, Hiraku. I can hear them thudding against the walls. Hiraku...it's terrifying."

His heart beat strongly, filling his ears with blood-sounds like 'no'. "They can't get you in there."

There was a soft sheeting sound, like hair moved across the receiver by a shaking head. "It's not because they're there that it scares me," he whispered. "It's because he's not."

Hiraku's thoughts interrupted one another. He looked around, in case a miracle had occurred and Doumeki was hiding behind a chair. "Stay where you are. I'll find him."

Watanuki was silent for a moment.  
"Bring him back, Hiraku. Whatever happens, I – he needs to come back."

The boy nodded down the phone. "I will. I'll find him. I won't call again – I'll bring him straight to the shop."

"I'll be here."  
He hung up the phone - either too pained to continue, or to indicate that Hiraku had to leave now. Probably both.

He looked at the sleeping Kichirou and his eyebrows tilted. The boy looked so small that he could waste away if Hiraku even blinked. But he steeled himself with deep breaths and thought that Kichirou was without Doumeki as well.

He reached to click the door aside.

* * *

→ODoumeki→O

* * *

Was this what death was like?

Probably not, actually. Not unless most people died in the mouth of a spirit.

His brain grated against his skull; that must have been where the screeching sounds came from, as his mouth was too dry to even whisper.  
The air around him was soft, like gentle waves lapping around a corpse on the shore.  
He opened his eyes, and the waves distorted his surroundings. The light wasn't so bright now. But it still hurt.

"Doumeki."

_Hello,_ he thought.

"Doumeki?"

_I heard you the first time._

"Are you in here?"  
It grumbled. "I thought your house was meant to be a holy place."  
The voice stumbled in the dark.  
"For heaven's sake, put on a light! It's pitch black."

An orange glow slapped his head. The silhouette of a boy was in the middle of it.  
Well, in the middle of the glow.  
No; in the middle of his head. "Watanuki?"

No. Not Watanuki. No Watanuki. He can't leave the shop. If he could, he wouldn't leave it for _you._

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" The voice burned. "Are you…"  
He suddenly made out eyes in the shadowed face, when they got much bigger.  
"Are you hungover?"

Doumeki found his own voice. It was wedged somewhere in his throat and a bit dusty. "That depends. Am I still drunk?"

"I…well, I don't know!"

"Well, is there still drink?"

He looked disdainfully at the empty bottles."No…"

"Then I must be hungover," he mused. He wriggled his back very slightly, like he was trying to get up but didn't come close enough even to fail. "Shame. I was hoping the kiyo'd got me."

"What are you –"  
The boy shook all over, but mostly his head. "Never mind. Just get up. Kichirou needs you to protect him. Watanuki needs you to protect him. I need you to protect them."

Doumeki scratched his head. "Kichirou?"  
The eyes blazed. "Yes, _Kichirou_," he snapped. "You're the only person who can help him. And you've left him for dead," he spat. "So get up or I'll do the same to you."

He scratched his head again. "Alright," he drawled. "That seems fair. I'll help your kicheerow - but I'm not gonna…I won't…just that, right? 'Cause I've got a promise to break."

The boy wrinkled his nose. "Whatever. Just get your bow. Don't bother with energy drinks, though. I don't care what happens to _you_."  
"Charming," the unwashed drunkard slurred.

Hiraku pulled him outside.

Doumeki smacked his forearm over his eyes. "Hey, who – who gave the sky a dagger?"  
"Oh, shut up. I hope you do get a headache."  
"Ow."

"What is wrong with you?" Hiraku snapped. "You were helping us all week. You go back to the shop for one second and suddenly you're broken. You promised you'd help Watanuki with us! You promised you'd go back to him!"  
Doumeki shuffled. "Yeah, well. It's only fair that I break the promise. Now we're even."

Hiraku threw him a disgusted look. "Two wrongs don't make a right."  
He wobbled. "Did you make that up? 'Ss good."  
"Do you not even care, Doumeki?" Hiraku'd timed his yelling to perfectly coincide with their entering public territory, but neither was concentrating enough to care about the staring. "It doesn't even matter what you think of me, alright? It doesn't even matter that it was your duty to protect people, or that you broke your promise. Do you not even care how much you hurt your friend?"

"What?"  
Doumeki blinked a few times. "I'm sorry, I said that before I thought about what you said. Use less words."  
He considered for a moment. Then,  
"...What?"

"He was in tears on the phone. But that doesn't matter to you, right?"

A small amount of colour hit Doumeki's cheeks.

"Of course it matters," he muttered. "But it's not like I matter to him."  
"Are you even listening to me? He was crying because you were gone. He could hardly breathe!"

Doumeki shook his head, biting his lip. "I don't want to hear it, okay? So what if he can't get deliveries any more. And the spirits won't get in the shop." He thought of Yuuko's dwindling protection. "Well, they might get in the shop."  
He suddenly forgot the point of running away, and the thought of Watanuki cornered by a demon hurt a lot more than a light-dagger to the eye.  
Then he remembered. "He lied to me and he broke his promises."

"When did he lie? You're everything to him, you idiot." Hiraku looked at the floor. "You should have heard him. He said that he was nothing without you. I can't even imagine that happening to m…"

He swallowed the letter."But you're going to let him lose everything, and you're going to make me lose everything." The boy seemed to struggle to find words in his twelve-year-old vocabulary to effectively sum up how he'd feel at losing Kichirou, and how he felt about Doumeki. His mouth twitched. "You're a real jerk."

It didn't feel powerful enough, so he turned to walk away.

Doumeki's hand landed on his shoulder. "Look, you've got it wrong. I didn't want to leave him. But I can't stay with someone who doesn't care about me. I couldn't be further from his everything. He's been using me."  
"You didn't hear him, Doumeki. He sounded…" again, he grasped for a better word than sad, or broken. "…Dead. And he said he didn't care about the ghosts, or anything. Just you."

A different sort of silence was slowly surrounding the archer. "So…he wasn't just upset because of the spirits?"  
"No, you arse! What do I have to do to make you understand?" He grabbed hold of Doumeki's arm. "Other than take you to the shop, because I'm doing that anyway. To help him. Not you."

Doumeki trotted along behind him, focusing more on thinking than on pulling free. "Hiraku, you can't be right. There was a spirit…and he knew about it, but he was keeping it secret, and…" He rubbed his forehead. "It's just a mess. You're wrong. He doesn't care at all.  
"Besides," he mumbled, "the book even said it was 'one-sided."

Hiraku stared back over his shoulder.  
Doumeki's eyes had been damp the whole time, for various reasons. Now a tear spilled over as he tried to look away.

Hiraku tried a frown, but couldn't help his voice getting softer. "What do you mean, Doumeki?"

It wasn't the sort of thing Doumeki ever said. He rarely said anything at all to strangers. But then, strangers never asked about Watanuki.

He stopped walking, and Hiraku didn't attempt to pull him along.  
"I…"  
He shook his head and breathed. It was best not to start with that. "I was chased by a spirit a few weeks back. I accidentally told him about it, and he started acting strangely. Then I read about that spirit. It's called a Kiyokorosu."  
He tugged at his the hem of his shirt. "You ever heard of it? It can sniff out its prey from miles away. It smashes cities to reach them. It feeds on unrequited love." He made a sound like the opposite of a laugh. "And it chased me for half an hour."

Hiraku blinked at his words. "Doumeki…"

He put both his hands to his head, covering it; Hiraku's hold melted away.  
"I love him." He said through his fingers. "I'm in love with him. And he knew it. And he manipulated it." Another tear poked its way out and fell down his face, pulling the volume of his voice with it. "Breaking my promise is the least I can do."

Hiraku's face froze, then thawed with prickling cold. His lips and eyebrows slid downwards.

He gripped the archer's arm again and said with a quiet urgency, "Doumeki, you don't know what I heard today. He needs you. How do you know…I mean, what if he thought it was…" he spread his hands. "After him? I mean, you said it can find people from miles and miles away. Maybe it's him who was in love with you?"

Doumeki shook his head rapidly, in time with Hiraku's empty words. Not even considering the fact that this young boy was chatting calmly about Doumeki's sexuality, the archer's brain was already confused. "No. Then it wouldn't be one-sided love. Because I love him too."  
"Maybe not one-sided - but unrequited? Did he know you loved him? Did you ever show him any affection?"

Doumeki's spine jerked straight and he glared in shock. "No! I have no idea if he's like me. I don't want him to hate me."  
Once more he covered his face with his hands, and drained them down. "You're wrong, anyway. The second time we talked about it, he said it wasn't here for him."

"Did it sound like he was just convincing himself?" Hiraku probed. "That he refused to believe his love for you was unrequited?"

"I…" Doumeki frowned at the memory; the way Watanuki blushed darkly and looked down and kept repeating; not even 'it isn't here for me', but 'it can't be'. "I don't know."

Hiraku was silent.  
Doumeki was horrified at his air of triumph. "No, Hiraku. He doesn't care. I can see now. He promised me that he'd stop granting wishes, and he's broken that so many times."  
"How many times did he promise?"  
"Three, at least. Every other time he just mumbled that he'd be careful."  
"When was the last time he promised?"  
"Just before you arrived."  
"So he's only broken it twice?"

Doumeki scowled. "Well, he's trying to grant this one."

Hiraku chewed at his cheek. "He hasn't broken it yet, though. And _you _promised you'd go back to him, and that you'd help Kichirou. That's two."  
He shrugged. "I guess you are even."

Doumeki managed to restrain his blush. He looked away quickly and the words he sent back were rough. "Okay - we'll go to the shop. That way I'll have gone back, and he'll owe me one. So maybe we can sort this whole thing out."  
He refused to think about what Hiraku had told him, but it was spreading a liberating light in his chest.

He stared at the boy with a frown of disbelief. "How do you know all this stuff?"

Clearly Hiraku was the same – the words he was about to say worked their way out of his mouth out of duty, not desire to confess anything to Doumeki. "The same happened to my father."  
Doumeki nodded. "Unrequited love?"  
"For a while."  
"And then?"  
"It was requited."

"Not the same thing, then," he grumbled.  
Hiraku frowned. "You'd be surprised by your similarities..."

The boy stopped walking; the man he led like a lost child followed him to a halt.

The shop was a hundred yards away; and though neither of them could see the spirits, the sound of them fighting the walls, the ground and one another echoed faintly in their ears.

They looked at each other.

Doumeki launched himself at the door, moving the ring to his finger and the bow to the air as he ran. "Follow behind me!" He yelled to Hiraku.  
The boy darted between monsters and arrows and came gasping to the door. He rapped it with his fist. "Watanuki? He's back!"  
He wrenched the door open while Doumeki turned in a sweep; left to right and back again, shooting faster than he blinked.

"Watanuki?" Hiraku shouted. He took a few steps further into the shop. "He's here! And we need to talk to you!"  
Doumeki gasped from the door. He cursed at a scratch on his arm, and gritted his teeth. "Yeah. Once we've finished off this plague."

He turned around, and for the second time saw a Watanuki who looked dirty and thin and exhausted and _gone. _  
Just like last time, the younger man seemed to return to his body at the sight of the archer. His eyes lit up (or was it the sunlight hitting tears?) and his cheeks reddened.

Watanuki paced towards Doumeki.  
He raised his arms towards the man, and punched him repeatedly on the chest.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You promised you'd come back! I thought you were dead, you bastard!" He shouted, hammering against the archer.

Doumeki blinked down at him, hardly feeling the blows from weak fists. He tried to say 'We're even' – but Watanuki had caught him off guard.

Instead he plugged his ears, smiled down at him and said "You haven't yelled like that in years."  
Watanuki paused at stared up at him.

Of course they were angry. They were more furious at each other than any human had the right to be.  
But they had spent their anger whilst away from each other – as they did with all of their passions.

Watanuki opened his mouth with words crouching at his lips; but then he turned white.

He leaned past Doumeki's shoulder and said "Oh, no."

A row of demons were watching them with a starving curiosity, waiting to see what this delicious morsel would do next.  
As the show slowed to a finale, the closest one tilted its head very slowly.

Doumeki watched with sickening fright. It looked like its neck would swivel entirely round...its upside-down mouth poised to swallow Watanuki's head...  
He tried to reach for his bow, but the seer reacted before him.

He pulled off his shoe, lobbed it at the crowd and yelled "Get out! Go on! Shoo!"

Doumeki and Hiraku stared at him, their eyes resembling medium-sized moons.

The spirit looked at the shoe, the hunch of its deformed shoulders almost making it seem offended.  
Then it growled a slow, laughing sound.  
It trotted towards Watanuki.

Doumeki steadied his bow with a half-frown that made it through the shock. "Do you mind my asking what the hell that was?"

Watanuki shrugged. "Well, it works on cats."

The archer stared at him. "You're mental." _And I love you. _"You're insane."_ Doesn't change the fact I love you.  
_He shot the first row lazily.

Watanuki grabbed his arm. "There's more, Doumeki. There's another wave coming." His eyes stared off into the distance. "They're in the city, but I can feel them. They're powerful."  
Doumeki stole the chance to look at him - eyes twitching with vigilance, face completely clear of bad thoughts for what Doumeki had done.

He swallowed razor-edged guilt and tried to fire with his elbow - he couldn't, and had to slide out of Watanuki's grip. "I'll take care of this wave first. They're weaker."

Watanuki's lips made a line and he nodded tightly. "There'll be at least a minute's delay when you're done."  
Then he stood back a few steps to watch Doumeki work, protected only by intense trust.

Another flare of guilt at this trust sent fire down Doumeki's arm. Five spirits went down easily.  
But Watanuki's presence distracted him, like a purple scar on his vision from watching the sun. He didn't realise one had got behind him until he heard a boy's scream.

He whipped around to fire. "Hiraku!"

"Doumeki, no!" Watanuki's voice was shouting. "Behind - no!"

As the sound became a screech, ice went through his arm. He folded onto his knees.

"Doumeki!" He yelled again. "Doumeki!"

The archer sent two more arrows towards them. Then they were safe, and he turned back to the battle, spraying the ground with blood.

"Doumeki!"  
Watanuki was running towards him.  
"Doumeki, get up - Doumeki, you're bleeding!"  
He gaped at the wound. "Oh, so these were the 'weaker' ones?"

He shot through more pain. "It's just a scratch."  
"A scratch?" Watanuki snapped. "It was a scratch before. Now your arm is - oh..." He pressed his hand to his mouth and swallowed hard.

Hiraku braved the falling bodies to look. "He's right, Doumeki. You've got a chunk carved out of you. And there's more blood on you than skin - shit-"  
He stepped backwards as more red sprayed his shoe. "You need a bandage, now."

"No bandages here," he growled through set teeth. "Get one later."  
"I'll use my shirt sleeve, then." Hiraku pulled at his buttons.  
"No - use mine," Watanuki said. He ripped the sleeve in a second and was tying it to Doumeki's arm.  
He blushed when he noticed their eyes on him. "Well, mine's longer."

Doumeki wondered if 'karma' was coming out of the closet and having boys take off their clothes in front of him several minutes later.  
He shook his head - the blood loss had him in a daze. And if the monsters ricocheting off the ground were anything to go by, he couldn't afford to be confused.

Watanuki seemed to finish with the knot, so Doumeki tilted his arm experimentally.  
An arrow whistled past the man's head and stopped a few feet away with a shudder. Then it keeled along backwards.

Watanuki swayed.  
Every heartbeat told Doumeki to console him. "Just a few more. Nearly done. Almost there. Hang on. Ah-"

He could only sense about three more - but one wasn't heading for Watanuki.

The other two seemed to work together. They darted closer in formation, ducking his first arrow and dodging the next. "Watanuki!" He yelled. "Get inside!"  
"I don't think I'm safe inside, Doumeki," he squeaked.

The archer turned to him, then looked at the shop.

He suddenly seemed to rush outside of his head. All he could feel was the wet, hot blood.  
The spirit hacked at the roof. Its chipped claw seesawed through the tile, bashing and wheedling until it formed a crack.  
His eyes followed the dust and plaster falling sleepily, then awaking at the ground with a crack.

Doumeki's legs walked him backwards to where Watanuki was ready to cling to his clean arm. "It's destroying - It's destroying-"

The archer aimed at its heart. It cried out and slid backwards, dragging a roof tile with it.

Dizziness crowded his brain, leaving no room for thoughts.

Watanuki babbled. "They're breaking the shop. They're getting into the shop."

Doumeki swung around yelled feebly at the final two.  
"Look! Look at the shop! Lots more tasty food inside! Go and get it! Tear along the dotted line!" He swung his bow to point at the crack.

Spirits weighed up Watanuki with the promise of more food, and chose Doumeki's lie.  
The seer's eyes bulged. "Doumeki, what are you _doing?_ The shop's the only - there's nowhere else that - I can't-"

Doumeki swallowed. He had to yell, just so that his words would come out as a whisper. "It's okay. I have a feeling. Yuuko wouldn't leave you without protection. Yuuko cares about you. People...people care about you, Watanuki."  
He staggered and bent over.

Watanuki's breathing wavered. He raised his hands towards him. "Doumeki, _no..._"

"Not yet," he gasped. "It's over. Just trust me."

He aimed at the tiny hole in the shop, and picked them off.  
For a second he thought he heard them hit the ground - then he realised it was his heart thudding in his ears and out his arm.

He watched the red form at his wound.  
He turned to Watanuki. "I have to know. I need you to tell me. I need you to tell me now."

Watanuki tried to pull him down to the step to sit. His voice was soothing - his manner of checking the horizon every half-second, less so. "You're dizzy. You're losing a lot of blood. You don't need to talk now."  
"No..." he shook his head. "No, Watanuki, I'm not - I just need to talk to you. Please just let me ask you."

Doumeki collected air, wishing more oxygen would make it to his lungs. He would never have said anything if that boy hadn't convinced him to. If this were his last opportunity, surely there was no more harm in asking than a momentary lapse of dignity before death? "Watanuki…I need to know. About the Ki…" His speech staggered. "About the Kiyokorosu…"

Watanuki's head snapped towards him; his face was stained. "What?"  
Doumeki stared at the blush. Did it mean Hiraku was right?  
He cleared his throat and ripped in air, pinning down the escaping confidence for just a few last words.

"Was it here for me? …Or for you?"

Watanuki's eyelids jumped.  
His mouth faltered for several seconds. "I…"

He stopped and stared at Doumeki for confirmation.  
The ringing of silent air surrounded them. Neither blinked.  
His voice was softer and higher than moonlight. "I think it was here for both of us."

Doumeki's stolen air bled out of his mouth.  
His heart felt like it had kicked into gear after years of stalling. Its beat hummed in his ears as he reached for Watanuki; slowly, so as not to break the spell-

-at least not before a flying ball of teeth and rage broke it for them.

Almost nothing could have torn their gaze apart. It wasn't even the presence of the second wave of demons that turned their heads. It was its sheer size; the number of spirits was so great, they seemed to pull the eyes in a new force of gravity.  
Watanuki gulped with a sound like a stone dropping down his throat.

Doumeki met his eye.

Watanuki kissed him.

He rolled up onto his toes and clutched the archer's shirt lightly, and their mouths came together in a rush of warm pressure.

They closed their eyes and just tried to breathe. Watanuki looked down; Doumeki tried to swallow, but forgot how.  
A choice between falling over and pretending to retain rationality, he whisperd "I need you to go inside. Whatever happens, you're safer inside. They'll take longer to reach you."

Watanuki kissed him again and the archer's eyes rolled upwards. Now he couldn't remember how to breathe at all. He opened his mouth to lure more air into his lungs. "Watanuki…you won't survive out here. I can't lose you."

"I can't leave you," he choked. "Doumeki, I love you."

Now he forgot how to stand, and in turn gravity forgot how to hold him; he felt he was floating upwards, and held Watanuki to him tight. "I love you. I love you," he murmured, and realised this meant they could kiss again. This time he felt something wet brush his lips, and licked back for just a moment at Watanuki's tongue, memorising the taste.

The younger man moaned as Doumeki closed his lips to him. "Go," he said. It was quiet enough to have been imagined.

Watanuki's eyes turned wetter than his mouth.  
He looked down and nodded.

Doumeki only realised as he released Watanuki that the man was shaking.  
He shook like he had minutes left to live, and like he'd spend it haemorrhaging.  
He shook like Hiraku, when he thought he'd never see Kichirou again.

And spirits followed him as the door closed. They bashed against the walls, and layers of dust peeled rapidly away.  
He looked at Hiraku, just to see another human - but Hiraku didn't know where to look either.  
And then the archer began to shake.

Fear pressed into him, trying to lower his bow.

But he raised it into the unwinnable battle.

* * *

→O→O→O→O→O→O


End file.
